Of sex and coffee tables
by sherlockllives
Summary: A (late) Halloween fic. Sherlock and John are throwing a party but the only thing that's rocking is the coffee table as they thrust feverishly on top of it.


Yeah so this is one day late because my computer decided to mess the wifi up...on halloween...for a halloween fic...  
What is my life? Are other people normally this unlucky?  
Anyhow I was blushing while writing this which takes a lot 'cus i usually don't like my own work but yeah!  
I Hope you enjoy!  
Also to my other readers, I sense that this weekend is the weekend for updates, so just keep an eye peeled :)

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It was Halloween, simple enough right? Not in 221B.

See, Halloween isn't a traditional English holiday and so of course when John suggested that he and Sherlock celebrate it then there were questions.

"Why should I do that, it's ridiculous?!" "I find it highly ridiculous to have to wear a stupid costume for such a stupid holiday!" "This is absolutely ridiculous!" In fact now John thought about it, the word ridiculous seemed to come up quite a lot.

And who could he be arguing with you say? Well none other than the 'amazing' Sherlock Holmes, yes, so amazing that he sulked and threw a tantrum when he was forced to get into an outfit and host a goddamn party.

John was just adding the finishing touches to his outfit now, it was at least an two hours until the visitors arrived but John had got so childishly excited that he couldn't wait. He was a werewolf, nothing special or out of the ordinary. The doctor had found a particularly 'okay' costume in some elaborate costume shop and was now just doing his makeup of which consisted of a few scratches here and there, some black eyes and the tragically stereotypical 'blood-from-the-mouth'.

"You look ridiculous in those ears." Said a voice from behind him and John turned around patiently, glaring before he's even put eyes on Sherlock.

Sherlock, being more conscious about his looks, was a vampire and John dared to say he even looked nice. At least he had actually _made_ an effort. His face was pale and for a moment John thought it was his natural skin tone but that unhealthy sheen to his face suggested he had put face paint on. Secretly John thought that Sherlock was just as excited as him, he'd certainly gone to a lot of trouble for his outfit.

"Well, your hair looks ridiculous…" John teased back, taking in Sherlock's dark curls which had been sleeked back into what was meant to be a Dracula style but looked in fact more greaser than anything. Sherlock suddenly looked very self-conscious. He brought a hand up to his hair, barely touching it for fear of ruining it.

"It doesn't, does it?" John just laughed and walked towards him, taking his hand away from his hair and holding it.

"It's only Halloween, and no it doesn't…" He chuckled and looked him up and down, the tight fitting waistcoat and eccentric shirt, the frills of which opened up over his hands and covered them to the knuckle…the tight trousers, John only imagined how tight they would look if he was aroused, _painfully_. He brought his mind away from the thought, upon realising not much blood was going to his head, and looked back up at an evidently blushing Sherlock.

"What?" the army doctor queried, trying to act innocent of his earlier thoughts. Sherlock struck a sly smile.

"You were looking at my crotch for quite a while…" he grinned and John felt his face flush but kept up the cool persona.

"Well it is a very nice crotch." He smiled, beginning to walk away.

"I lied before…" Sherlock's voice chased after him and made John stop still in his tracks, since when did Sherlock Holmes admit to lying? He slowly turned, his brow furrowed.

"When?"

"When I said your ears are ridiculous…" Another smile spread across his pale face, his lips noticeably pink against the creamy white of the paint.

"Oh?" John raised his brow, urging Sherlock to continue as he walked back towards him, entering his intimate space. Sherlock made no motion to move away. He was wearing interesting cologne that John had never smelt before, obviously new.

"No, they're actually quite quaint." Sherlock moved forwards as he spoke the words, bumping his nose against John's in an oddly endearing manner before he angled his face to brush their lips. John motioned in much the same way, more persistent in the pressure until their lips sealed in a proper kiss.

It was sweet at first until John's helpful libido flashed back the images of his recent fantasy and then he realised what he really wanted. He applied more pressure, cupping Sherlock's face his hands and feeling the paint smudge under his palms. Massaging his thumbs into Sherlock's jaw he, not licked, but bit on Sherlock's lower lip until he was granted entrance, feeling as well and hearing Sherlock's gasp evolve into a moan.

The detective groped at John's clothes, intertwining his fingers in the fur material that covered his torso in what was meant to be wolf's fur tearing through a white dress shirt. John could feel his makeup smudging against Sherlock's face and the dull taste of face paint hit the back of his tongue as he deepened the kiss at such a fierce pace that Sherlock very nearly toppled over and went evidently weak at the knees.

John drove Sherlock back until his knees hit the coffee table and he stumbled onto it, steadying himself with one hand while the other carded through John's hair. He was lucky he didn't sit on anything but a few papers otherwise he might have felt something else up his arse that wasn't what he was expecting.

John weaved his fingers into Sherlock's hair, feeling gel stick to his hand as he gripped the locks and tipped Sherlock's head back to swipe the top of his mouth with his tongue, an action that made Sherlock groan low in his throat.

The detective's legs wrapped firmly around the doctor, bringing him close between his legs as he draped his hands over his broad back. He knew what he was expecting but he still gasped when he felt John's warm erection press against the inside of his thigh. John groaned into Sherlock's mouth, one hand flying down to grip Sherlock's upper thigh, grounding himself so that he didn't buck helplessly into the detective's welcoming warmth.

The doctor pulled away from the detective with much difficultly as Sherlock was insistent in not creating any distance between them. Sherlock's makeup was smudged around his mouth revealing his skin tone standing out against the white, the fake blood from John's chin was also smeared across his cheek.

His outfit was also visibly…affected. John cast his eyes down to see a large bulge in the front of those sinfully tight trousers, just the very sight made John go light headed. Sherlock moaned also but not for the same reason that John did, John could see why. It didn't take an idiot to realise that Sherlock was trying very hard not to relieve some of the pressure from his cock.

John licked his lips and brushed a hand over the tent in Sherlock's trousers, the reaction was almost immediate. Sherlock bucked up so quickly that the coffee table rocked with his movement and his eyes squeezed shut with a gasp.

The doctor took a little pity on him and rubbed more firmly at the fabric, leaning in close to Sherlock's ear as his body spasmed with sensations. He sucked on his lobe and then trailed wet kisses down to the hinge of his jaw which he knew was a particularly erogenous zone for Sherlock. His head lulled back softly with a whimper as he allowed John more room.

"So you like my dog ears do you?" He purred as he squeezed Sherlock in his palm, causing him to jerk up into him with a moan. "You like the idea of me being a dog, hm?" he asked as he licked a long strip up his hot neck, "Do you know what dogs are good at?" he bit gently, palming Sherlock's cock once more through his trousers before fiddling with the zip but not quite pulling it down, teasing Sherlock.

Sherlock grit his teeth and opened his eyes to hold John's gaze. His pupils were blown wide and his lashes were lowered to cast shadows across his cheeks.

"What's that?" His voice was so obscenely low and dark like liquid sex that it made John's eyes almost flutter close to indulge in the sound, instead he held his gaze solid as he stroked Sherlock's clothed cock once more. Sherlock's brows furrowed but he kept his eyes open, his mouth dropping to hang ajar.

"Fucking." He growled and Sherlock allowed his eyes to slam closed as John slowly unzipped his flies. The detective squirmed and groaned as the blood that was trapped from his cock suddenly came rushing it to full hardness. His cock almost jumped out of his flies, dressed in his usual, simple black boxers.

John very nearly hurt himself he fell to his knees that quickly, desperate to touch and smell and taste Sherlock's eagerness. Sherlock's hands immediately flew to John's hair, winding through the locks and grabbing hold of the false dog ears seemingly in desperation to get hold of anything related to John.

John leant forwards and nuzzled into the inside of Sherlock's thigh, glancing up at Sherlock who still had his eyes closed but who's breathing had become more shallow. He rubbed his cheek against the shaft of his clothed cock and could feel a patch of wet fabric where pre-come had seeped through. The thought made John's own cock twitch in sympathy.

Taking in a deep breath, John smelt the strong odour of sex and musk carpeted with the familiar odour of Sherlock. The doctor pushed Sherlock's thighs apart further and took a second to relish in the touch of Sherlock's fingers carding through his hair before he took his hand and gently squeezed the base of Sherlock's erection.

Sherlock gasped loudly, his fingers twisting in John's hair as he waited for John to go further. Suspense and tension drowning in the heady sense of arousal climbed his spine and he dared to open his eyes and glance down to his lover. All the air left his lungs at the sight of John on his knees firmly between Sherlock's thighs, one hand wrapped around his still clothed cock and his cheek pressed against the inside of his thigh. He looked a whole new breed of beautiful slashed with an erotic helping of dirty.

John noticed Sherlock's eyes on his and withheld direct and intimate contact as he began to slowly mouth at the detective's cock through the fabric. He could feel the hot flesh of Sherlock's length pulse under his tongue and Sherlock had to put a lot of focus into not bucking his hips.

He pressed his tongue to the head of Sherlock's cock, tasting the bitter taste of pre-come on his tongue where it had seeped through the fabric and suddenly Sherlock wasn't naked quick enough. Unable to pull down Sherlock's boxers fully without removing his trousers as well, John had to make do with pushing them down to mid-thigh.

Sherlock began to mutter complaints about how he should be careful but the hot breath that was now being puffed on his cock shut him up. John didn't spend much time to marvel at Sherlock's impressively engorged erection before he had attached himself to the base, slowly licking his way up the shaft.

Sherlock very nearly shouted in pleasure but he cut it off quickly, conscious of Mrs Hudson downstairs. His breathing became erratic as he looked helplessly down at John and his sinful mouth, surprised how he could still maintain direct, feverish contact with the man while he was doing such unspeakable things to him.

His tongue kept working on his shaft, licking down a long strip that made Sherlock emit a sensual moan before he returned back to the head. Holding the sleuth's cock still in his hand, John pushed back the foreskin slightly and rubbed his tongue against the frenulum before circling it maddeningly slowly just below the glans.

This time Sherlock gave up trying to keep eye contact and instead threw his head back with a shout and bucked his hips with a whine, silently begging John to stop teasing him. John took pity on the man and without any warning to Sherlock, took a deep breath and swallowed down onto Sherlock's cock.

"Oh god John!" he cried, his hands stroking desperately through John's hair as if trying to repay the sensation with simple touches. John couldn't quite take Sherlock down all the way but for what he couldn't take he made up for it by stroking up and down Sherlock's thighs, one hand pumping the neglected part of his cock.

One hand went from John's hair to grip the edge of the table as Sherlock made a desperate effort not to choke John by bucking up. John on the other hand seemed to be doing everything possible to make Sherlock loose his mind along with his self-control.

The sensual feeling of Sherlock's cock filling his mouth made John rediscover the fact that he did in fact have an erection throbbing in his trousers and he reached for it now, rubbing himself feverishly through his ripped (and 'blood' stained) jeans, moaning onto Sherlock's cock.

He ran his tongue along the underside, bobbing his head slowly and feeling Sherlock's erection throb against the roof of his mouth. The taste of pre-come entered his senses and John had now unzipped his jeans, palming himself through his red boxers. He hadn't noticed he'd closed his eyes until he heard Sherlock moan his name in ecstasy and didn't see his reaction.

"John! John stop I'm going to—" but John didn't stop, instead he pulled off Sherlock just enough so that his mouth was now taking in just the head of his cock and began to suck in earnest, swirling his tongue around and over the glans.

Sherlock cried out and jerked his hips so violently that the head of his cock fell out of John's mouth, twitching from a deprived orgasm. It seemed to take a few moments for Sherlock to realise that the stimulation had stopped but even then he was in too much of a state to speak in coherent sentences. John spotted Sherlock's hand twitching near his thigh and realised that he was trying not to finish himself off.

Forcing himself to stop stimulating his own cock, John stood from the floor and cupped Sherlock's face in his hands, bringing it close to his but not kissing him. He waited until Sherlock opened his eyes and stared intently into them, only whispering these four words in such a hoarse and sexy whisper that Sherlock very nearly came then,

"On your front, now."

Sherlock complied quickly, leaning over the coffee table with his shaking arms. John ran his hands down Sherlock's back, causing shivers to rise from his spine and when he got to the hem of his trousers, he pulled them down until they laid, pooled around his ankles with his underwear.

Sherlock sucked in a shaky breath and rocked back, grinding into John's still clothed erection. John gasped and gripped Sherlock's hips, losing himself in the friction for a second before he remembered what it was that he was meant to be doing.

"Wait here for a second…" the doctor whispered, giving Sherlock's forearm a reassuring squeeze before he hurried into their bedroom and riffled through their draw until he found what he was looking for. He brought the condom and lube back through to the room, a mixture of affection and arousal struck his stomach when he saw that Sherlock hadn't moved an inch.

He was aware that his dog ears now lay quite crooked on his head and he was surprised they had even stayed on at all, considering the way Sherlock was yanking on his hair earlier.

He approached behind Sherlock and placed a hand firmly on the small of his back, pushing up the rather elaborate dress shirt that belonged with his costume. He heard Sherlock whimper in anticipation as John very carefully applied the lube to his first two fingers, the click of the cap caused gooseflesh to rise on Sherlock's thighs.

He knew Sherlock wouldn't need much preparing, they had been together for almost a full year now and they seemed to have adjusted to each other…in all aspects. Tentatively, he pressed his now slick fingers against Sherlock's entrance, circling it before pushing his first finger in slowly. He could feel Sherlock's walls tense and twitch against him, his heat positively engulfing.

Sherlock's breath had picked up again now as John gently thrust his finger into him, adding another as he worked Sherlock open. John noticed Sherlock's breathing stutter and he soothingly rubbed the small of his back in circles, trying to make the process as painless as possible.

"You okay?" he asked as he ran his free hand through the now unkempt curls of Sherlock's hair. Sherlock was about to answer until John crooked his fingers down and rubbed against Sherlock's prostate. Sherlock's legs nearly buckled under him and he cried out 'yes' in what John thought would have been the answer to his question but now had turned into a plea to continue.

John continued to rub gentle circles around his prostate, not stimulating it directly but adding just enough pressure to turn Sherlock into a babbling mess over the coffee table.

"I'll take that as a yes then…" John smirked and slowly removed his fingers, dragging them along his prostate as he did so. Sherlock whimpered at the loss of John's fingers but then, at the sound of him opening the condom packet, decided that being a little patient might be worth it.

John released his now rock hard erection from his trousers, hissing in pleasure as the pressure was relieved from the hot flesh. With shaking hands he rolled on the condom, trying not to think about the sensation of something finally touching his neglected cock, and lined up to Sherlock's entrance.

He held his hips firmly and rubbed the head of his cock against his opening, hearing Sherlock gasp and then moan. Slowly, he pushed in until the head was completely engulfed in hot, tight heat.

"Oh god…" John muttered quietly and forced himself to keep still so that Sherlock could adjust. Sherlock, however, had other plans.

John was always the safe man, taking extra measures to make sure Sherlock was comfortable. He was happy for it, yes, but sometimes he needed to be reminded that Sherlock wasn't exactly fragile. With a quick snap of his hips, Sherlock pushed back completely onto John's cock and moaned obscenely loud at the sensation of being filled so quickly.

John swore loudly and buckled over Sherlock, the quick burst of pure, carnal pleasure making his eyes go blurred. Unable to stop himself he snapped his hips in a shallow thrust and Sherlock bowed his head onto the desk, pushing back as encouragement. He continued to thrust in shallow thrusts until he drew back almost half way out and pushed slowly back in.

"Oh Sherlock!" John cried as he continued with the thrusting, building a rhythm that slowly got more and more deep and more and more hard.

Suddenly John angled his hips down and hit Sherlock's prostate dead on. Sherlock gasped and groaned, one of his hands flying behind him to grab John's arse so that he could guide him.

"Oh god John, just there!" He panted and thrust back eagerly to feel the same sensation once more. He got it alright, this time with increasing accuracy as John angled his hips into Sherlock's prostate each time. Sherlock's mouth opened wide and his whole body seemed to jerk as the stimulation slowly took over his senses and left him as a moaning, boneless wreck on the table.

This new position allowed John better access to Sherlock's sweet spot until Sherlock could barely breathe for shouting John's name. John has squeezed his eyes shut against the intense pleasure of Sherlock's tight heat fluttering around him mixed with the deep and sensual cries of him name, he knew he was close but he wanted to prolong this as much as possible.

Impossibly, he slowed his thrusts down so that just the head of his cock was rubbing in circles against the swollen gland inside Sherlock. Making Sherlock writhe and squirm under him, gasping for breath over and over.

John reached in front of Sherlock and gripped his engorged and dripping cock, rubbing the underside for a few long strokes before he slid his thumb over the glans a few times. Sherlock was babbling incoherent nonsense that consisted mostly of curse words until his back arched up into John and he came with a loud cry of John's name. Strings of semen shot across the table and for a split second John hoped there wasn't anything important on there.

Sherlock's walls clamped around John so powerfully that his eyes watered and he could no longer hold himself back as he thrust erratically into Sherlock, aware that he was probably still on a high and so avoiding his over sensitive prostate. A few more thrusts later and his vision whited out to colour and pleasure and he came powerfully into the condom with a cry.

Sherlock had collapsed on the table, panting loudly, and as John pulled out he rolled over to look at him. Semen had covered his stomach where his dress shirt had been hoisted up and his now limp cock laid against his thigh. John stumbled on his feet slightly as he stepped back and took the condom off, tying it off and throwing it lazily in the direction of the bin.

They shared a tired, dishevelled look of smudged makeup and rumpled costumes with a large helping of extreme sex hair before smiling almost painfully wide, breaking out into soft giggles about how ridiculous they looked all sexed up in their sodding Halloween costumes.

John was still laughing until he looked at the clock and then his face fell.

"Shit."

"What is it?" Sherlock still sounded tired but he was slowly waking up.

"We have half an hour until the guests are here…" John couldn't help himself from smirking as they shared a panicked look and then instantly got about readjusting clothes and straitening hair. Sherlock rushed off into the next room to get himself cleaned off while John made sure that nothing was out in the open that would make them quite the topic down at the yard. The lube and condom for example.

As John stood in front of the mirror adjusting his makeup once again, he wondered if maybe next Halloween Sherlock would be more eager to participate…

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Phew! Hope you enjoyed (let's just say halloween goes on for a week okay?) so happy halloween!  
Anyway please tell me what you think because I'm anxious, I've never written anal sex before so...  
See you next time!


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